


Hotel Room

by aibdingAraweelo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Sassy this for you, me attempting to write feelings, this is me just trying really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibdingAraweelo/pseuds/aibdingAraweelo
Summary: Based off a prompt: Tibet and Mongolia have bit of disagreement. Get ready to explore Mongolia's deepest thoughts in this uncomfortable journey!





	Hotel Room

Moscow was the last place Munkhbat thought he would end up in, and yet here he is, drinking his blues away. Ivan had brought to a dimly lit bar deep within the city. He doesn't remember much, he was explaining what had happened between him and Tshering. With each shot, he grew more somber. Then he was being dragged out of the bar, then he remembers that he was in a car. He wasn’t sure if it his or Ivan’s. Ivan had invited him to Moscow, continuing old traditions of theirs, sitting and drinking away their issues. The stars were dulled out by the city lights, that didn’t use to happen before. His mind flies back to the past, of days long gone. Simpler times, or at least they seem simpler now. Heavy sadness and the nostalgia lulled him to a deep slumber.  
When Munkhbat woke up his head was pounding and he rose to his feet. His steps unsteady, his ears ringing. Along with his headache, his shirt was crusted in puke. Great, now where the hell was he? This wasn’t his summer Ger, and where was Tshering? He sat on a couch, it was a particularly revolting shade of green. Just looking at it made his head hurt more. As he sat there it hit him. The fight, the angry words they yelled at each other, a door slamming so hard it rattled the pots in the cupboard. He remembers smoking and drinking with Ivan. He remembers feeling angry. Yet no matter how many shots he had his twisted, dark, grimy thoughts ravished his brain.  
“Did he love me?”  
“I knew he was cheating.”  
“Anger my ass, we all know that he thought you were a retard the whole time.”  
“Who would love a drunkard?”  
“First sign of trouble and he’s already on the booze.”  
“So irrational, even if he was cheating, who wouldn’t cheat on you?”  
“Pathetic.”  
"Stupid.”  
“Worthless.”  
This whole thing started because of some furniture. Tshering wanted to keep this old couch, he wanted it to go. It broke down quickly, Tshering accused him of being insensitive, Munkhbat thought the opposite. It wasn't about the furniture though, and he knew it.  
He stumbled his way down a hallway, he eventually made it to a kitchen. He washed his face and looked out the window. Traffic, so it couldn't be Ivan’s place, Ivan normally lived in the countryside, plus his summer home was in the city. All signs pointed to a hotel, unfortunately, he had spoiled the bed. The rooms were small and the bathroom was smaller. The walls, bathtub, and the sink were all a shade of ivory white. He showered and the hot water numbed out the pain. It also left him with his thoughts. No matter how prideful Munkhbat could be he was worried. He stepped out and instinctively sought a bathrobe. Tshering always brought a couple with them when they stayed at hotels. He thought that the hotel bathrobe was disgusting. He also knew that Munkhbat wasn’t a fan of bathing together, so sometimes he would hop in the shower with him. Of course, the man had an incurable case of shyness, it made being intimate a bit difficult but Munkhbat like it. He liked being the initiator, he liked being control without any reins. At least he thought he did, when it came to Tshering, he could be quite controlling. Munkhbat couldn't lie though, sometimes he enjoys it. He liked it when he gave him quick side glances at meetings or when he whispered into his ear. His smiles lit his face on fire, His tender kiss or his erratic love bites sent him over the edge. How his eyes would fly open, and his already red cheeks would flush even more.  
Three sharp knocks on the door bring Munkhbat back to the present. He steady's himself, and opens the door. Standing there is Tshering, looking mostly at his feet. For a moment no one speaks. Munkhbat did have a lot of questions, mostly on how Tshering knew he was here. Ever since that night, Munkhbat had turned his phone off. He waves his hand, ushering him in. To say that there was tension in the air was an understatement. Tshering sat down, balling and fumbling his hands and fingers. For a few moments, there was silence. Munkhbat wanted to cut the tension, he just didn’t know how. The memories of the days earlier flooded back. At that moment he had too many emotions stirring within him. He felt irate, tired, regretful, guilty, and empty. Like an artist, in those few silent seconds, Munkhbat was painting with his emotions. He felt guilty and irrational, then his anger would flare up. Then he felt tired and disgusted with himself. He hated this, he wished he could say something, honestly, he didn't even care anymore. He broke the silence with a sigh, coughing in his fist.  
“So, do you want anything?”  
“Tea’s alright.”  
Munkhbat could see how uncomfortable Tshering was. He was looking at his hands, a habit of his. Something he did when he felt awkward. Munkhbat walked towards the kitchen, then he realized that he was still in an unfamiliar hotel room.  
“Munkhbat the kitchens to your left.”  
Just like that the tension dissipated  
“I knew that,” Munkhbat mumbled, “I was just...looking for my sock.” Munkhbat was already internally cringing.  
Tshering got up and set his hand on his shoulder, eyebrows arched.  
“You do know I’m the one who got you this room, right?” Tshering said looking at him. His dark brown eyes staring at him. Before Munkhbat could reply Tshering stopped him.  
“Ivan called me,” Tshering started, Munkhbat was going to have to talk to Ivan after this “Munkhbat we can’t dance around this anymore.”  
“I wasn't dancing around anything.”  
Tshering stopped to look at him “Listen, what you said, last week it really hurt me.” He stopped, staring at the window, the morning sun was lighting the room up. “Why would you think I would ever say that?”  
Munkhbat felt uncomfortable as Tshering turn to look at him, his eye was boring holes into his skin.  
Tshering was looking out the window, the sun had a particularly nice effect on his eyes. They changed to a stunning gold color.  
“You know I would never call you stupid,” Munkhbat held his breath, “Yes, a little silly at times, but a buffoon?” Tshering placed both of his hands on Munkhbat’s cheeks.  
“Never,” he whispered, “you know I don’t think so lowly of you.”  
“I know,” Munkhbat mumbled, “I was just mad and I just yelled it out.” The sunlight slowly crept up the walls, making the baby blue paint vibrate sky blue. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tshering. So he stared at the approaching sunlight.  
“Munkhbat, look at me.”  
He listened, bringing himself to look at those hardened eyes. Tshering’s hands wiped a tear Munkhbat didn’t even know had spilled out of his eyes.  
“You were right I do get a bit attached to things,’’ Tshering started “we’ll get a new one, the TV stays though.”  
They stayed quiet, hands entangled, Munkhbat loves this, loves him.  
“I love you Munkhbat, no piece of furniture is going to change that, OK?”  
“Look this is getting real emo-”  
“I didn’t hear a-ok, plus what’s wrong with being emotional?”  
“Nothing it’s just that,” Great he had no reply for this “fine,” Munkhbat retorted, tears threatening to fall.  
He tried to clear his throat best he could, “I’m fine with that, as long as you are too.”  
“OK?”  
“OK.”  
“Tea?”  
“Tea."

**Author's Note:**

> Mongolia has a weird depiction in this fandom. He's either a rapist, stoic, or a overall mean character. Well I've felt this is unfair. Everybody is a bit emotional. My boi deserves a little more love. Criticism is welcomed, I'm not a good writer. So tear me apart folks.


End file.
